


Waiting for this moment to arise

by sonictrowel



Series: Long Night in the Blue House [75]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: F/M, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 06:28:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11685957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonictrowel/pseuds/sonictrowel
Summary: Rain was falling over Baker Street, fat droplets splashing on the windowpanes in the soft early morning light.  The scattered rhythm blended into a gentle melody that was carrying through the house.  River stretched and turned over in bed, listening more closely as her vision and her thoughts cleared from the haze of sleep.





	Waiting for this moment to arise

 

Rain was falling over Baker Street, fat droplets splashing on the windowpanes in the soft early morning light.  The scattered rhythm blended into a gentle melody that was carrying through the house.  River stretched and turned over in bed, listening more closely as her vision and her thoughts cleared from the haze of sleep.

The Doctor was singing in the next room.   _Blackbird,_ because of course he’d be starting their daughter off with anachronistic lullabies.  Her heart swelled and she held absolutely still, listening with rapt attention to his lovely voice.  She could hear Milly’s little squeaks and coos now, too, as delighted with the song as she was.  It wasn’t guitar, but their girls would both share these early memories of their father filling the house with happy music.

It was so strange, this out-of-sync life they lived.  Especially now, with him so young, with the constant knowledge always weighing on her that this was very much stolen time.  Knowing that this was just a little glimpse of what they might’ve had if they’d managed to do things sooner, the right way round; that it would be snatched away, snuffed out when she least expected it.  And River kept thinking of the other Doctor— her grumpy, softhearted Scot— and knowing how it would kill him to be missing this.  

But, at the same time… he was right there in the next room.  He wasn’t missing it at all, because he was determined to be here with them no matter what.  Both of him were.  And there were so many moments like this, when everything was just so achingly perfect, that she couldn’t imagine it any other way.

Milly started to whinge as he finished the song.

“Well, sweetheart, Mummy’s going to have to help you with that,” he cooed in reply.

“I’m up, sweetie,” River called, pulling herself into a seated position and propping the pillows behind her.

The Doctor appeared in the doorway a few moments later with Milly cradled to his shoulder, and suddenly her heart felt too big for her chest again.

“Hello, dear,” he said, beaming at her as he came round to her side of the bed.  “Did you sleep alright?”  He kissed her while he carefully passed Milly into her arms.

“Wonderfully,” she said, tearing her eyes from his face to look down at the third love of her life, who was searching impatiently for her breakfast.

As perfect as it all was, the sharp ache of loss shot through her in the very same breath as joy bloomed in her heart.  As she remembered each time she’d done this before with her other sweet little girl— her wonderful, brilliant, brave Athena.  Nothing eased that pain.  Nothing soothed that gaping, raw, empty place inside her.  Nothing ever would until they were all back together.

The Doctor knew that look in her eye well by now.  He brushed her hair back and pressed a kiss to her forehead, knowing he could offer no real comfort, only his love.  Well, and one more thing.

“I’ll fetch us tea.”  

He tapped the bridge of her nose before he moved to get up from the edge of the bed.

River’s eyes went wide and a little gasping laugh of surprise escaped her.

“What?” he asked, hesitating.

“Nothing, sweetie,” she managed to say, breathless and smiling.  “Tea would be lovely.”

He paused, watching them fondly for a moment before he headed downstairs.

A rush of warmth swept over River as she let the weight of the tiny gesture sink in.  It really was all meant to be, wasn’t it?  Always had been, so far beyond what she could have imagined.

“Your Daddy’s very good, isn’t he?” she whispered to Milly, smiling down at her with tears stinging her eyes.  “You’re a lucky girl.  You’ll get to know at least two of him.  Hopefully lots more.  They’re all very good.”

___

River had had quite enough of dreading the future during their twenty-four years. One could only live so long waiting for the axe to fall.   At some point, she just had to settle in and call this home; to call her young Doctor and baby Milly and Baker Street and twice weekly teas with the Paternoster trio home, and get on with living this life, however long it might yet be.

That meant being able to step away from it, too, and be sure that it wouldn’t all fall apart in her absence.

They had the conversation with Vastra and Jenny over afternoon tea, when Milly was about six months old.

“I know this is a lot to ask, and you’ve done so much for us.  But please, promise me,” River squeezed the Doctor’s hand as the words burned in her throat, “if I ever don’t come home, you’ll call the Doctor— when you know him, after Darillium— and have him erase his memories.”

She looked to her young Doctor, and he gave her a thin, strained smile of encouragement.  They both knew this was the only way.

“And if he can take Milly, well... I really hope he can,” she sighed.  “But if for some reason it’s not safe…”

“We’ll look after her,” Vastra said firmly.  “You don’t have to worry about your family, either of you.  You’re in safe hands with us.”

“Thank you,” the Doctor said, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he choked out the words that River suddenly couldn’t voice.

Jenny reached over and patted River’s arm, and she mustered a grateful, tearful smile.

Just about then, they began to hear the sound of a crying baby, approaching at an unnatural speed.

River and the Doctor were both out of their chairs before Strax entered the room, with Milly extended in front of him.

“The humanoid child is not responding to reason,” he announced, while the Doctor scooped her out of his hands.  “She does not require food, rest, or changing.”

River bit her lip as a laugh threatened to burst out of her, while Milly instantly settled in the Doctor’s arms.

“I hate to tell you this, Strax, but I’m afraid she thinks you’re boring,” he said.  

Strax scowled, much as it was possible to distinguish that from his normal face.

“I wouldn’t take it personally,” the Doctor went on, “it’s probably just because you don’t have any hair.  Things she can yank on are pretty much the height of entertainment.”

Milly was indeed deeply focussed on grabbing in the direction of her father’s hair, an obsession it appeared that she shared with her older sister at this age.  She was probably going to be back to crying momentarily when she realised it was out of her reach.

The love swelling in River’s chest almost made it hard to breathe as she watched the two of them; as she thought about losing them.  Leaving them and going to die.  It would happen, one day.  She had no idea how long they’d have together before that.

She crossed the couple of steps between them and wrapped one arm around the Doctor, resting her chin on his shoulder and taking one of Milly’s questing little hands in hers.   _Just a little longer,_ she thought, a silent prayer to the universe as she squeezed her eyes shut.  What would a few more years be, in the scheme of things?  If she could just keep them a little longer?

 _“Boy,”_ Strax whispered loudly.

“Strax, I’ll not answer you anymore unless you use my name,” Jenny muttered irritably.

_“Which part is hair?”_

___

Later that night, when they’d put Milly to bed and retired to their room, the Doctor didn’t seem as sure about their plans.

“Do you have to go?” he asked softly, stepping up behind River as she finished unpinning her hair in front of the mirror, sliding his hands around her waist.

“I’m sure I won’t be long, darling,” she sighed, leaning back into him.  “You told me you’d seen me and didn’t know it was me… that means I’ve got business out in the universe with you.  This you, even.  Which would explain why I’ll apparently go to such lengths to disguise myself instead of just erasing it later.  I shouldn’t risk opening all of this up.  And whatever it is, I’ve got to make sure I’m there, because usually us meeting out in the universe means me needing to save your very attractive arse from certain death.”

He let that one pass without remark; he had to _really_ be nervous.

“But how do you know this Syra business is anything to do with me?”

The message had come through the communicator in River’s Vortex manipulator: a dangerous energy emission from a highly unstable volcanic planet that didn’t make any sense, and a mucked-up future history to match.  Just the sort of thing Professor River Song was known for investigating.

“Because I’m going to call you, of course.”

“Oh.”

“Can’t be sure who I’ll get… but I think from here on out, it’s all early days with you.”  She turned around in his arms, reaching up to hold his face.  “Just think of it this way: when… _this_ is over, you’ll see me again, before too long.”

“And I won’t even know it.  I won’t know you.  I won’t know about any of this.”

“It’s better that way,” she whispered, leaning in close.  “I don’t want you to have to miss us.  Not for that long.”

“I’ll miss you this time,” the Doctor murmured in her ear.

“Time travel, honey.  I’ll be back before you know it.”

“I hope so.”

“Shall I give you something nice to remember for the five minutes I might be gone?”  River’s lips brushed against his, her teasing laced with promise as she slowly walked him backwards.

He didn’t even try to get in the last word, just wrapped his arms tight around her and kissed her deeply as they sank onto the bed.

“Just don’t leave me yet, River,” he breathed shakily against her skin.  “Please, just come home.”

She tried to speak through the sudden burning in her chest and the lump in her throat, but before she could struggle too much he kissed her again, and she melted into him, body and mind, holding him close while she could.

___

The Doctor was actually still asleep when she rose in the morning; a rare occurrence, but then, she did do her best to wear him out.  With great difficulty, she resisted the urge to kiss him or stroke his hair, slipping silently out of bed and crossing the corridor into Milly’s room.

“Good morning, sweetie,” she whispered, finding her daughter’s bright hazel eyes already open, watching the sunlight catching on the mobile over her cot.  “Let’s be nice and quiet so we don’t wake Daddy, alright?”

River picked her up, marvelling at how quickly she was growing; it seemed like every day she was noticeably heavier.  Time always went too fast.  She slid into the rocking chair by the window, shifting Milly’s lovely, snuggly weight from her shoulder to her arm.  Nursing her in the warm morning sun, with the Doctor sleeping soundly in the next room, the idea that she should leave them even for a moment seemed absurd.

But it was all part of this mad puzzle, every mixed-up meeting a necessary piece to make sure that all these blissful moments wouldn’t be undone.

“I won’t be long, sweetie,” she whispered.  “I promise.”

___

River came home after Syra, a few days later, or five minutes, depending on your perspective.  When the Doctor woke to find her standing in a cloud of dissipating vapour, dressed in dirty jodhpurs, boots and a utilitarian jacket, sweaty and smelling vaguely of sulfur, he laughed like he’d never had such a wonderful surprise in his life.  He threw his arms around her as soon as she came within reach, pulling her into the bed amidst her giggles and protests that she was filthy, and snogged her thoroughly enough that she completely forgot what she was complaining about.

She came back from Vienna, too.  That time she’d slipped up.  Seeing him, _this_ him, remembering her after this little piece of their life, after he’d had to forget… Well, on the one hand, she was so, so happy to see him again, that he’d see her again.  On the other, it tore her heart to pieces.  

There was a minor local mystery: a wealthy family with great political clout in 1750 Vienna were actually Whifferdills, some sort of evil plan… Honestly, they paid only as much attention as was necessary to wrap it up quickly, in favour of booking a room overlooking the Danube and not leaving it for a week.

After that trip, painful and wonderful as it was, she finally picked up the psychic wimple.  Couldn’t risk letting him see her face again, not until it was properly time that Pretty Boy met her.  The thought of that... of seeing that total lack of recognition in his dark eyes and knowing she had to let them start all over; let all of this, their life together, remain forgotten… it made her stomach knot and her lungs burn.  

Hopefully it would be a long while yet.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for sticking with me everyone!! Your comments, as always, completely make my day. We're really getting close to the end now, calm before the storm.... and I am so excited for writing the final chapters! ahhhhhh!


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